


Catdopting

by Sintero, Staubengel



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: And bantering the fuck out of the process, Established Relationship, M/M, Spideypool - Freeform, That's the whole story., They're adopting a cat, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-13 00:39:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7955308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sintero/pseuds/Sintero, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Staubengel/pseuds/Staubengel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter wasn’t prepared to adopt another stray; being in a relationship with Wade was hard enough work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catdopting

It was a mild saturday afternoon when Peter heard the heartbreaking meowing floating out of a tight, dark alley. Now, being a superhero wasn’t only limited to the human world and Peter could no longer count on ten fingers how often he had rescued cats from trees, dogs out of lakes, or pets out of burning houses. One time he had even saved a bunny from the subway rails (it sounds funny, but it actually had been hell. Those beasts could bite). So, being the selfless do-gooder with a high moral code that Peter was, of course he had to stop to investigate the pitiful sound.

Carefully, he walked into the side street, trying to find the source of the meowing. It came from a dumpster at the end of the alley. Of course. Now Peter would have to dig around in smelly trash. Sighing to himself, he opened the lid and hopped onto the rim of the container, peeking inside. It had been emptied not long ago, so that only the very bottom of it was covered in waste. One item was a little cardboard box and apparently this was also where the meowing was coming from. Someone had tried to get rid of their unwanted kitten.

Peter frowned in disgust at humanity and shot a webstring at the box to pull it up to him. The mewing got louder and more desperate. Slowly, to not frighten the little animal inside with sudden movements, Peter pulled open the box. Inside sat a little, white kitten with a pink nose and yellow eyes. Its fur was dirty and matted and it looked half starved. Peter’s stomach contracted out of compassion.

“Hey, buddy,” he whispered, pulling up his mask so the cat could see his human face. “It’s alright. It’s okay, you’re safe now. I’m gonna get you outta there.”

Slowly again, to not scare it off, Peter reached into the box and got the kitten out. Pressing it against his chest, he let himself fall back down to the street and set the cat down on the asphalt.

“Alright, there,” he said softly. “There you go. No go hunt yourself a rat, there are plenty around here. Okay? Off you go, little pal.”

He straightened up again to walk out of the alley, pulling his mask down as he did so. A high-pitched, little sound had him turn around though before he could leave. The cat was sitting there, looking at him as if asking what he was doing.

“I need to head home,” he explained. “Wade’s waiting up for me. I can’t stay, I’m sorry.”

He set in motion again, this time leaving the side street for good. Only a few feet down the road his spidey sense told him he was being followed. Sighing, he turned around once more, only to see the cat scurrying after him.

“Hey, you can’t come,” he tried to reason with it. “I need to go to Wade now. Go find something to eat. Go. I’m not your mommy, okay? Shoo. Off. There, go.” He waved his hand in a shooing motion. The kitten sat down in front of him and looked up with its  big, yellow eyes. Peter sighed.

“I can’t take you home with me,” he told it again. “It’s not even my home. Okay? Find somewhere else to stay. I’m sure it’s not hard being as cute as you are. Now run, alright? Or I’ll be late.”

The cat remained unimpressed. Peter just grunted and turned around to keep walking down the street. Maybe if he ignored it, the cat would stop following him.

Ten minutes later it turned out that it didn’t. The kitten was still following each of Peter’s steps without even thinking of taking another turn. Peter had thought about just swinging away, but he didn’t have the heart to do so. The miserable meowing from the dumpster still echoed in his ears.

Five minutes later he tried to argue with the cat again. There were so many nice places in New York that it could go to. Live a free and independent life. Eat some huge rats. Find some stray cat friends. Start a gang. But apparently that didn’t sound as nice as following Peter around. So Peter couldn’t do anything but keep walking, always followed by a little, white shadow, until he finally reached Wade’s home.

“Alright, here we are,” he mumbled half to himself and half to the cat.”I guess you will wait for me in front of this door until I leave the house again, right? So might as well take you inside. Feed you, give you a bath. Then I can get you to the animal shelter and maybe someone will adopt you. Does that sound good? Huh?”

The cat gave a little meow. Peter actually had to chuckle.

“Okay then, here we go. Come on.” He crouched down and took off his mask to gently pick up the kitten and place it inside. Then he pressed the mask against his chest, making sure the cat couldn’t fall out, and shot a webstring up to the living room window. In a matter of seconds he sat on the window sill and climbed inside, landing in Wade’s flat.

By now Peter spent more time here than at Aunt May’s, but they still hadn’t officially moved in together. It was a nice little flat, well lived in but tidy and clean, and Peter felt just as much at home here as he did in Aunt May’s house.

“I’m home!” he called as he hopped down onto the floor, the bundle of his mask containing the kitten still held against his chest. “I, uh… I kinda brought someone! Hope that’s okay!”

“Sup, Baby Boy!” a gruff voice called out from the kitchen, followed by the sound of pounding steps as Wade dove into the living room and rolled behind the couch to retrieve his mask. Seconds later, he popped up and shot Peter a smile from beneath the lopsided bit of spandex. He glanced around confusedly. “Huh. You know babe, you actually need to have a third party to put the ‘trois’ in ‘ménage a.’”

“Yeah, I know, I do,” Peter assured. “It’s kinda, uh… It’s not what you’d expect.” 

He crouched down and set the little bundle onto the floor. It gave a soft meow as he did so.

“Found that in a dumpster on my way home,” he explained as he pulled away the mask. The kitten shook its head and licked its snout before looking around curiously. “It didn’t leave my side, followed me right home. I thought we could maybe patch it up a little and deliver it to the shelter tomorrow. So it can find nice people to stay with. What do you think?”

In answer, a blood curdling scream resounded throughout the small flat.  Both Peter and the cat jerked, the cat hissing in shock before it whooshed off to hide under the safest looking piece of furniture.

“Ugh, great,” Peter commented. “It will be hell to get it out from under there. Sorry, I didn’t know you were afraid of cats.”

Wade excitedly spluttered something indecipherable and approached the couch slowly. He pulled his mask up to his forehead and laid on the floor, cooing softly. After a long moment, the soothing timbre of his voice finally convinced the timid little kitten to peek out from beneath the couch and bump his hand with its wet nose.

With a tenderness that was typically only reserved for Peter and tacos, Wade eased his bulk upright and scooped up the dirty little ball of fluff against his chest. He glanced up at Peter with a beatific smile and, for once, remained blissfully silent.

However, the moment was abruptly shattered by his proclamation of “It’s a kitty!”

“Yeah, it’s uh… really? I didn’t notice that…” Peter mumbled in confusion. No matter how long he and Wade already knew each other, he would never completely get this man. “So… does this mean you’re okay with it staying for the night, or…?”

“Sure! If by ‘for the night’ you mean ‘until you pry…” Wade lifted the kitten over his head, glanced up, then cradled the purring ball of fluff once more so that it could continue kneading pin prick holes into his costume.

“’… her from my cold dead fingers.’ And we all know my branding is too lucrative for that shit to happen any time soon,” he stated before placing a soft kiss to the sweat damp curls on Peter’s forehead. “Welcome home, babe.”

“Yeah, hi,” Peter replied lowly. Then he eyed the kitten again suspiciously. “So wait, does this mean we’re going to keep it? Cause that’s what it sounded like…”

A heavy arm descended across Peter’s shoulders and pulled him tight up against Wade’s side. “You bet your sweet, bubble-gum ass!”

The declaration was punctuated by a particularly vigorous burst of purring as not one, but two human bodies surrounded the kitten in warmth.

Peter groaned and leaned heavily against Wade’s side. “Great,” he mumbled. “I never thought I’d ever unintentionally have a child with you…”

“Aww, don’t be jealous, snookums. I’ve got plenty of lovin’ to go around,” Wade rumbled in his ear. “But, not gonna lie, you two smell like a jiffy-mart hot dog roller. How ‘bout, you and Jr. go get your full detail wash on and I’ll give that drool-worthy ass the buff and polish it deserves after dinner?”

“What? You want me to take this claw-and-teeth-disguised-as-fluff with me under the shower? It’s going to butcher me! Cats are instant-monsters, if you pour water on them they evolve! There’s not gonna be any ass left to polish after that, believe me,” Peter whined. Yes, the cat was cute and friendly. But Peter knew this was only a farce. No way would he let these claws come near his unprotected body.

Holding the purring kitten before him like an offering, Wade made certain that her piercing, yellow eyes locked with Peter’s. “Come-on, look at her. Does she look like a goddamn Gremlin? How can you say no to that face?” he crooned. He stepped closer until the tiny animal was only an inch or so away from Peter’s nose and waited with bated breath for the inevitable. And surely enough, the kitten closed the distance of her own volition to administer a devastating head boop.

Peter groaned once more in defeat. “You will feel horrible when you see my blood painting the walls of your bathroom and have to patch me up,” he grumbled. “You only want the cat to link this traumatic experience of being cleaned with me, not you, so it won’t hate you. Admit it.”

“Love you, Petey,” Wade responded instead. He followed up the kitten’s head boop with a searing kiss of his own in a one-two knockout. They fell into the easy, familiar slide of lips and tongue until Peter was all but boneless beneath him. “Wilson uses underhanded distraction. It’s super effective,” he mumbled against Peter’s lips with a grin.

“Ugh, I hate you,” Peter muttered back.

“I know you mean love,” Wade teased in return. He gently nuzzled the kitten’s tiny head and placed her in Peter’s arms. “You’d better hurry, or I’ll polish off the entire pan of Salisbury steak myself.”

With that, he turned to head back into the kitchen, blowing a kiss over his shoulder as he went.

“I still don’t know why I’m doing this,” Peter questioned his own sanity as he carried the purring ball of fluff over to the bathroom. “This will only end in tears.”

Still grumbling to himself, he closed the door behind him and set the kitten down on the closed toilet lid. “You’re going to wait there. While I, uh… God, I don’t know, how do I do this? I’ll just… Okay, wait…”

Peter grabbed the shampoo and poured a generous amount into the sink. Then he turned on the warm water, holding his hand under the spray to make sure it had the perfect temperature. As the sink was full, he closed the water-tap and looked over at the kitten.

“Okay, are you ready for this?” he asked it. “Cause I’m sure as hell not…”

The cat blinked balefully at the sink, then up at Peter, unimpressed.

“Alright, here we go then… Here we go, come on…” Peter carefully grabbed the kitten and picked it up. “I know you are going to hate me, but please at least  spare my face, okay? Okay… Here we go…”

Holding his breath, Peter grabbed the cat tighter so it couldn’t escape and maneuvered it over into the sink.

As Peter lowered it to the water’s surface, every limb and hair on the fur ball’s body trembled. It let out a pitiful mew and glanced up at Peter with large doleful eyes, but went along pliantly nonetheless.

However, as soon as the warm water touched its tail, the cute act was gone. Suddenly sinking its claws into Peter’s wrists, the kitten began to inch its way up Peter’s arms, yowling.

“OU!” Peter cursed. “Fucking hell! I’m trying to help you here, you - OUCH! Ou, fuck! Jesus, relax! You need a bath!”

He was glad that he had gotten rid of his gloves and had pulled up his sleeves, because repairing the suit all the time really was expensive and this cat’s claws tore deep.  But Peter had battled supervillains, he would not let go of a tiny animal that was admittedly doing its best to turn his arms into hash.

Cursing and yelling at the kitten, Peter forced it into the water that was splashing all over his chest as the little beast fought against the hands pushing it down.

A soft knock on the door distracted Peter sufficiently for the kitten to twist in his grip and bite down with all the fury its little, two-pound body could muster.

“Hey, babe, do you need a hand?” Wade called through the door, shit-eating grin evident in his voice.

“FUCK!” Peter yelled in response. “Come in here or I’ll throw the cat in your face the next time you’re mean to me! It just bit my fucking wrist!”

Wade’s bulk blocked out most of the light from the hall as he opened the door and leaned against the doorframe. “Do you kiss your aunt with that mouth?” he teased, then his smile slowly fell in increments as he took in the scene. “The fuck are you doing?” 

“I’m bathing the goddamn cat!” Peter snapped back, blood pouring from his forearms and hands and water still splashing all around him where the cat battled bravely. “How the shit did you think this would turn out! I told you it would butcher me, now don’t act all innocent! Get in her and help me, or I’ll throw this thing in your face right  _ now!” _

Despite his muscular physique, Wade slipped into the small bathroom with ease. He cradled the kitten in one hand and smacked at Peter’s fingers to get him to let go. “Jesus tap-dancing Christ, it’s a bath, not water boarding, Lieutenant Death-Grip,” he muttered. The kitten clung to his suit like a spider monkey and let loose a heart rending yowl. “I know, sweetheart. He just doesn’t know any better.” He leaned over and kissed Peter’s temple to ease the sting of his words.

“It’s weird as fuck coming from me, but you can’t go in guns blazing, Petey,” he explained while returning to nuzzling the miserable, wet kitten.  

“Okay, you know what! Since you’re so great at it, why don’t  _ you _ do it!” Peter  growled. “While I try to find bandaids for whatever is left of my actual hands!”

Wet and bloody, he stormed out of the bathroom. He needed to wash the soap out of his wounds, it was burning like hell.

“Don’t worry, he won’t stay mad for long. I mean, if he can love a giant, ugly asshole like me, how could he resist a sweet, cute little asshole like yourself?” Wade assured the kitten, who merely mewed in response. “Alright, let’s get you tidied up.” 

Wade perfunctorily let the water out of the sink and refilled it with only a couple of inches of depth. As the water line rose to his satisfaction, Wade fished out a cup from the cabinet one-handed and placed it on the counter. Then, with all due care, he pinched the kitten’s scruff and supported her body down into the water. The pitiful yowling didn’t abate, but Wade’s skin also stayed intact.  

Peter in the meantime had to learn that, when you had a healing factor like Wade did, you didn’t keep bandaids in your flat. Now, Peter had a healing factor himself, but it wasn’t as immense as Wade’s. The wounds would stay until tomorrow. To keep them from bleeding, Peter stormed into the bedroom, still cursing under his breath, and tore the wardrobe open to grab one of Wade’s shirts and rip it in half to wrap it around his injuries. He didn’t know whether he was more angry at Wade or the cat right now, but he was definitely playing with the thought of spending the night at Aunt May’s.

Smoothing the watered-down shampoo into the kitten’s shabby coat seemed to calm her slightly. Though, her continued trembling made Wade’s heart ache. 

“That’s right, sweetheart, you’re doing great,” he cooed softly as he ran his massive hands over her almost comically small body. The juxtaposition made him chuckle, though his humor abated somewhat as he traced the sharp kink in the kitten’s tail and the shredded tip of one ear. “Fuck. You’ve had a pretty shit time of growing up, too, huh? Well, you’re safe now, fuzzball. He may not know how to handle bath time, but Petey’s an expert in putting the broken pieces back together,” he explained with a bemused huff.

The kitten meowed in response. Whether it was out of understanding or simply because it wanted to get out of the water remained open for interpretation.

Wade’s rich, full-bodied laughter filled the bathroom.

“I gotcha. I’ll stop waxing poetic and get on with it already,” he retorted. He shielded the kitten’s face, dipped the cup, and proceeded to rinse her off. Once fully rinsed, Wade pulled his own towel from the rack and used it to swaddle her.

That seemed to be a lot more pleasant than being washed if the sudden lack of complaint was anything to go by. In fact, the cat kept perfectly still so its wet fur could be dried.

Now only slightly damp, the kitten’s motor-boat purr began revving up once more. Wade set her on his broad shoulders and stepped out into the hall. “Petey?” he called out.

“What,” came the still grumpy answer from the bedroom. 

Like a ghost, Wade appeared behind him seconds later, hands resting on his hips and lips dusting his neck. The intimate proximity was only slightly hampered by the cat pressing one dainty paw against Peter’s head.

“Don’t even try that,” Peter grunted. He had tried to change out of his wet suit, but it hadn’t been that easy with the makeshift bandages around his wounds.  He had had to take them off again and then wrap them around his arms once more, so now bloody spots were visible on them everywhere. He had put on one of Wade’s shirts in return which was  a lot drier than his own suit. “And tell the cat to get its paws off me. Now and forever.”

Sighing heavily, Wade set the cat onto the nearby bed and returned to Peter. His over-sized shirt only emphasized how long those delicious, lithe legs were. Heroically strangling the urge to voice his opinion on the fact that those long legs would look even better wrapped around his waist, Wade stood before Peter with a soft smile. He lifted the bandaged hands to his lips and placed a kiss on each knuckle. “I’m sorry that you were bested by a ball of fuzz and spite, babe. But it was really sweet of you to bring her here with you. You’re a hero to people and cats alike,” he said as he reached up to cup Peter’s cheek.

“Oh, stop it with the sweet-talk,” Peter huffed. “I told you this would happen and yet you still made me bathe that little beast. And now you’re sorry, like I told you in advance as well. That’s not soothing me in the least.”

Wade’s fingertips traced the sharp line of Peter’s jaw and came to rest lightly against his neck.

“Hey, guess what, I’m going to ask you feed the little murder machine too. And give her a never-ending supply of pets and head boops. You know why? Because if your love and affection can make a fucking train wreck like yours truly happy, just imagine how much better off that abused little snowflake turd could be with just a shred of your attention,” Wade stated as he pulled Peter nearly flush against him. “And, in other news, have I ever mentioned how hot it is seeing you in my clothes?”

“Ugh,” Peter groaned against Wade’s body. “You’re trying the flattery route again.” Sighing, he raised his head to peek over Wade’s shoulder to where the cat had happily turned into a white fluff-loaf on the soft bed sheets. “You seriously need to buy real bandaids and stuff,” he mumbled. That he quit complaining was a sure sign of his defeat. “I shredded one of your shirts for the bandages and I hope it was one of your favorites.”

“It’s my favorite now because it helped fix my Petey Pie’s boo-boos,” Wade simpered while one hand surreptitiously meandered down to cup a firm buttock through Peter’s boxers.

“Oh my Goood,” Peter whined and shoved Wade’s arm away with his elbow. “Stop groping me and feed the damn cat. Before it decides to jump on me and chew my nose off. It’s plotting something, I can feel it.”

Wade rolled his eyes dramatically. “You act like you’re not the one who brought Bea home all ‘oh my god, look what I brought to show and tell!’” His hand went right back to where it had been prior. 

“I didn’t want to bring it here,” Peter started defending himself. “It followed me home, and I - … wait, Bea? You named that beast already?” 

“Of course! I’ve only seen one other lovely lady who could pull off white hair with that level of pizazz,” Wade responded with a sly smile.   

“... You did  _ not _ name the cat after Bea Arthur,” Peter said incredulously and pulled back his head to stare at his lover.

“You sound pretty confident, so I’ll just agree and avoid the soul crushing look of defeat in your eyes when you realize that you’re wrooong,” Wade teased, drawing out the last word. He took the opportunity of Peter’s distraction to sneak his thumb into the waistband of his boxers.  

“Oh my God,” Peter grunted once more. “This is so not happening.”

As if by their own volition, Peter’s boxers began to inch down his waist slowly enough not to be immediately noticed.

“Hey, just look at that little puddle o’ cat loaf and tell me she ain’t the prettiest damn thing you’ve ever laid eyes on. Lord knows looking at this ugly mug must get old,” Wade said with a tight smile.

“No, don’t try to distract me like that,” Peter shook his head. “Don’t make me assure you you’re not ugly and I love you just so I won’t think about the fact anymore that you just adopted a cat that turned my arms and hands into hash and that you named it after the one person you love more than me. And if these shorts move down one more inch, I’m gonna make your nuts meet my knee real hard.”

All teasing lilt in Wade’s voice dropped as he took hold of Peter’s chin and met his eyes. “There ain’t nobody I love more than you, Baby Boy.”

And just like that, the dark intensity vanished and eased back into the mischievous smirk that Peter knew so well. “So, you’re going to try to play the ‘I brought a stray fleabag home because I’m a bleeding heart, but I’m going to play word games until I convince myself that it’s all my hunky boyfriend’s fault’ card? Fine,” he drawled daringly, then dropped down into a squat, taking Peter’s boxers down to his ankles.

“Stop that!” Peter called out and tried to kick Wade. “You don’t honestly think I’m going to make out with you right now, with my arms hurting and the cat watching us! Go feed it, before I put both of you in the dumpster I found it in!”

“Yeah… because making out was the end goal here,” Wade deadpanned, on his knees.

Bea blinked at the unfolding tableau innocently from her blanket nest.

“Ugh, you’re horrible,” Peter mumbled. “Pull my pants back up, my hands hurt. And then go. Feed. The damn. Cat.”

“Yes, dear.” Heaving a put-upon sigh, Wade did as he was told, but not without first running his tongue up the sensitive juncture of Peter’s stomach and thigh.

Peter merely rolled his eyes at that. “I’m starving too, by the way,” he stated. “And my hands are really badly injured, so you’ll have to feed me.”

“God, you’re so fucking needy!” Wade exclaimed jokingly, throwing his arms into the air as he regained his feet. He pulled Peter into a one-armed hug and pressed a tender kiss to his brow. “Now go have fun denying me the pleasure of rubbing my hands all over that gorgeous body, brat.”

“Are you kidding me?” Peter asked. “There’s no way I can wash myself with my arms being raw meat. You’ll have to take care of that too.”

This was a lose/lose situation and Peter  _ knew  _ it, the little minx.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize just how wounded you were,” Wade began with nothing but concern lacing his voice. He crowded close to Peter and guided him to sit on the edge of the bed, within arm’s reach of the half-dozing purr factory. “Give me a sec and I’ll take care of my Baby Boy the way I should have from the get go.”

Peter raised his brows suspiciously and eyed Wade from head to toe. “Whatever you’re up to, don’t do it,” he warned.

“I’m not up to anything, just taking care of my sweet little Petey Pie,” Wade called out over his shoulder as he disappeared down the hall. Ominous crashing and shuffling resounded from the disaster of a room that Wade used to house his munitions. Next to Peter, the kitten perked up slightly and scooted closer with a hesitant mew.

Peter had looked after Wade with a frown, but the sound next to him drew his attention to the cat. “Hey. Wanna apologise? Hm? Cause you hurt me worse than some of the supervillains I’ve fought,” Peter told it.

Bea’s meowing grew plaintive, but stopped abruptly when Wade finally bounced through the doorway with a flourish and held up a gleaming suture needle. “Never fear, I’ve got just the thing! Those battle wounds won’t stand a chance,” he crowed, crossing the room in three long strides.

Peter stared at him with wide eyes. “Don’t you  _ dare  _ touch me with that!” he exclaimed. “Get away from me! Or I’ll throw the cat in your face! This time for real!” He quickly scooted further onto the bed, bringing his legs up to keep Wade at bay if necessary.

Wade paused with one knee on the bed where Peter had been seconds prior. “Well, if you don’t want stitches I guess you’ll just have to go about it the old fashioned way and clean those glorified paper cuts with soap and water. Say… like in the shower,” he snarked as he dangled the suture needle threateningly.

“Get off of me immediately,” Peter growled back. “Or I won’t shower at all and will remain smelly and disgusting, right here, in your precious bed.”

“Holy shit, I think the cancer just metastasized to my nose! I can’t smell worth a dick-licking damn. There goes your leverage!” Wade crowed before lunging to grab a hold of Peter’s ankle. The kitten watched the proceedings nervously, but was hesitant to leave her warm spot.

“Get off me!” Peter repeated and kicked Wade with his free leg. “I’ll take a fucking shower if you finally feed the goddamn cat, alright!”

“Sure. After all, you know what’s best, babe,” Wade called out sarcastically from where he had landed in an undignified heap on the floor.

“No, I don’t, or I wouldn’t be in a relationship with  _ you _ ,” Peter stated under his breath and got off of the bed. He kicked Wade as he stepped over him and went to the door. “Be back in 15 minutes. If you hear me screaming in pain because the soap is burning my arms, just ignore it.”

“But how do I know it’s that kind of scream and not the one where you’re stroking one out to the thought of my luscious bod and forgot to be quiet ‘cause you thought I wasn’t home? Should I ignore both? Or should I ride in, lance out, like a knight in shining armor? And by ‘lance’ I totally mean cock. These are important questions!” Wade hollered after him.

“There will only be one kind of scream,” Peter promised. Then the sound of the bathroom door slamming shut echoed down the hall.

“But which kiiiind?” Wade moaned in response, grinning. Peter could be just as much of a little shit as he could, it was part of their charm. A tuft of white peeked over the top of the bed covers curiously, then Bea dropped to the floor with all the grace of a Dodo in flight. Seconds later, there was a soft little kiss of fur on his cheek and a motor boat purr settled right next to his ear. He couldn’t help but turn his head and nuzzle the kitten back, smile splitting his face from ear to ear.

“I’m sorry you had to see Mommy and Daddy fighting, Baby Girl. Daddy just gets a stick up his ass sometimes. But don’t worry. Mommapool isn’t going to let anything happen to my sweet little jizz sock. Come on, let’s go scrounge up some grub.” With that, Wade rolled onto his feet and walked to the kitchen slowly enough not to accidentally kick the kitten as she swirled about his ankles in tight figure eights. Laughing, he finally scooped her up and closed the distance. That level of cute should be illegal, he thought idly, before setting her down on the countertop. He rooted through the fridge and cabinets in search of something cat-worthy to tide Bea over until they went to the pet-mart.

“Alright, so looks like our best options are canned tuna, coco-puffs, and Peter’s left over Chow Mein,” he observed, chewing his tongue in thought. “Eh, fuck it. Pick your poison,” Wade drawled as he put all three on separate dishes and lined them up in front of Bea. The cat sniffed curiously at each before predictably beginning to lick at the mound of drained tuna fish, then dove into it with gusto.

“I know, food is the shit, right?” Wade crooned in praise.

As promised, it took Peter about 15 minutes to shower. When he finally came into the kitchen, hair still damp and seriously ruffled, he immediately stopped in his tracks to stare at the cat on the counter that was licking its tuna-smeared snout.

“One, why is the cat on the counter,” he asked, wiping his wet fingers on Wade’s shirt. “And second, how dare you serve it my leftover Chinese.”

“One, cats should be afforded the courtesy of being on the same level as their human overlords to equalize the power differential between pet and pet owner.  Two, that shit has been in there for a week at least,” Wade snorted. He scratched the kitten behind her torn ear while she ate and got a snarl for his efforts.

“It’s a pet,” Peter clarified. “I rescued it from the dumpster, you’re paying for its food and it’s allowed to live with us, it butchered my arms, you’re giving it cuddles and a place to sleep and will hopefully clean the litter, so yes, I honestly do feel like its overlord and I find that okay. Now third: Where is  _ my  _ food? I’m starving.”

Wade stayed silent and patted the counter cheekily.  

“... Wade? Food?” Peter asked again.

“Peter, counter,” the merc retorted.

“.... Are you implying that you are my overlord and I should jump on that damn counter so you can pet me and feed me like a cat,” Peter wanted to know, voice threateningly dark.

Licking his lips, Wade patted the counter once more. “Nah, I just want your ass at dick level so I can alternate finger feeding you with bouts of heavy petting, like the romantic that I am.”

“Yeah, how about no,” Peter shook his head. “Just give me a plate with food and a fork and I will help myself.”

The nasally startup of Wade’s whine was reminiscent of a police siren.

“Come on, I haven’t seen you all day, Petey. I just want to show my boyfriend how much I missed him,” he wheedled while taking a step closer. “And how much I appreciate his stupid hair.” Another step. “And how much I love him with every little piece of my heart,” he finished, placing his broad hands on Peter’s shoulders.

“And I really want to eat something,” Peter replied, placing his own hands at Wade’s sides. “Without heavy petting. After that I’m all yours, I promise.”

“Kay! Now hop on the counter. I made the Salisbury steak with mashed potatoes that you like so much!” Wade said excitedly. Behind him, Bea began making the plate scrape against the countertop as she licked every last inch clean.  

“You did?” Peter asked with a smile. He felt a tension leaving his body that he hadn’t known to be there until now. There were often times where Peter would be so stressed out that he got overly sensitive and every incident threw him off balance. Apparently the cat had been such an incident, because only now did he realise how grumpy and aggressive he had been ever since he had arrived here. Wade hadn’t deserved this, of course, and now that he revealed he had cooked one of Peter’s favourite meals, the teen came back to his senses. Wade loved him so much and Peter had been so pissed. Only because he himself hadn’t been able to handle a kitten.

Peter pulled Wade a little closer and stretched up to be able to kiss Wade’s lips. “Thank you,” he whispered and kissed him again. “You’re the best.”

“I know.”

Returning the kiss skillfully, Wade ducked down and lifted Peter up so that his legs wrapped around the merc’s hips. “Psych! I’m your overlord and you are only allowed on my level by my leave,” he cried as he set Peter on the counter. As if to punctuate his proclamation, Bea’s tuna plate finally went over the counter edge and shattered across the tile floor.

“... I take everything back. You are horrible and so is the cat,” Peter stated. Bea only mewed coincidentally and peeked over the edge to study the shards she had just created.

“Kidding, kidding, kidding…” Wade repeated like a mantra as he tried to mollify Peter with his waving hands. Without fanfare, he fished the warm pan of Salisbury steak from the oven and quickly made up a plate for Peter. “See! Nothing but the best for my Spidey-babe,” he explained cheerfully as he offered the plate, barely managing to hide the wince as shards of ceramic pierced through his tube socks.

“You just stepped into the shards, didn’t you,” Peter said and took the plate from Wade. He leaned forward and softly kissed the merc’s temple. “I’ll take care of them when I’m done here. Just make sure you don’t hurt yourself on them again.”

“Nope, I’m just peachy, nothing to see here,” Wade claimed despite the red footprints left in his wake. He leaned against the counter and offered Peter a fork, then absently rubbed Bea beneath her chin.

The kitten began to purr loudly while Peter only sighed and started eating. “You know, if you wanna keep her, you should get her checked up,” he told Wade. “Get her to the vet and all. Shall I swing out and get a litter box and cat food and stuff before it gets too late and the shops close? A cat carrier too, maybe?”

“Babe, it’s like two am. The only things open this late are legs,” Wade chided gently, however, a brief glance at the clock on the stove claimed otherwise. “Or it’s only seven? This is some of Cable’s time travel bullshit. Huh. No wonder it’s still a little light out.”

His chatter carried on inaudibly beneath his breath.

Peter was used to that by now, so he just repeated his question. “Should I swing out or not? I am very certain the cat will have to go to the toilet at one point.”

The question jolted Wade back into the present. “Wha? Yeah, sure! I can do it though. You’ve had a long day heroing and shit. Enjoy your fancy meatloaf and I’ll run and grab whatever B-arth needs,” he commented. It was pretty nice to see that Peter was warming up slightly to the little fuzz ball that he had reluctantly saved.

“B-arth? I thought her name is Bea,” Peter commented. “And anyway, I’m faster than you when I swing out, it’s no big deal. Really.” Also - and maybe that was the biggest reason Peter insisted - he didn’t really want to stay alone with the cat.

“What if we go as a family? That way Bea Arthpurr can pick out her own stuff! We’ll toss it on the floor and whatever shit pan she walks towards is the winner.” Wade nearly wheezed in excitement.

“... You did  _ not  _ name the cat that,” Peter groaned. He threw his head back and closed his eyes in defeat for a few seconds. Why. Just why to everything.

“You can’t just take the cat,” he tried to explain overly calm and slow. “Since we do not own a cat carrier yet. And you will not just put her into your pocket.”

Picking up the content kitten, Wade turned away from Peter and cooed ridiculous sentiments to the little animal. When he spun back around, Bea’s head was poking out of his costume collar and purring like a freight train. She wiggled herself sideways and blinked sleepily against Wade’s warmth. “Ta da!” he cried, arms outstretched. “Wade Winston Wilson, ex-mercenary-now-working-for-SHIELD-doing-mercenary-shit-but-still-not-technically-a-mercenary, best boyfriend ever, and cat carrier extraordinaire. How’s that for a triple threat?”

Peter’s facial expression would make the perfect photo for a definition of the term ‘being done’.

“No,” he forbade simply. “You are not taking the cat with you in your costume. Either I go and buy stuff and she’ll like it or she will crap on the sofa.”

Wade’s shoulders slumped and his smile shifted into a crestfallen frown. He quickly forced a tight grin in its place and retrieved the kitten from his suit to set her back on the counter.

“Sure, Baby Boy, whatever you want. I’m gonna go grab a broom and take care of the one kitten wrecking crew’s mess.” Snippets of Miley Cyrus’ Wrecking Ball followed in his wake, accompanied by his bloody footprints.

Peter sighed again and leaned forward to rub his temples. He always felt terrible when he burst Wade’s happy little bubble. There was nothing worse than seeing this disappointed look on his face. But the truth was that Wade’s ideas often were on kindergarten level and it was better to crush them before he could act them out. 

“I can do that, really,” he called after Wade, raising his head from his hand. The cat was sitting beside him, looking at him curiously. Or maybe she just wanted food, Peter couldn’t tell.

“Nah, you eat. I’ve got this,” Wade stated simply as he went about the task of sweeping up the large shards, then mopping up his own blood.

“Okay,” Peter gave in and took another forkful of the delicious food. “You know we can’t just take her like that,” he muttered while chewing. “She could run off. Or the store owners will throw us out when they notice her. I will just go and buy something after I eat, okay?”

“Sounds like a plan,” the merc responded, pausing to boop Peter’s nose while he ate. “I can just see the headlines. Spider-menace Steals Pet Goods in Quest to Deny Law Abiding Pets Appropriate Toileting Apparatuses. Apperati? Whatever the fuck.”

Peter rolled his eyes at the thought of the Daily Bugle headlines and shook his head. “I’m not going to steal it, I’m going to pay for it. And I can change somewhere before I go into the store so no one will see Spider-Man buy cat supplies.”

Snorting in amusement at the image of Peter swinging while loaded down with cat products ameliorated much of Wade’s sour disposition. “I should write a list for you!” he announced.

“Yeah, better,” Peter nodded. “Or I’ll forget something. And then she will murder me in my sleep.”

“She’ll do that anyways,” Wade retorted airily. Stashing the broom and mop back where he had found them, he made his way over to the counter and swept the kitten up to perch on his shoulders. She leaned against the back of his neck and made a valiant effort to whip him to death with her crooked tail as he made his way back to the bedroom to retrieve a post it.

Bea remained staunchly wrapped around Wade’s shoulders despite the amount of jostling it took for him to comfortably recline on the pillows. Once situated, he eased her little body to rest more comfortably in the crook of his neck and smiled at how soft her patchy fur was against his scars. “You’re a real class act, you know that, fuzzball?”

Of course she did.

While Wade put together a list of items he thought necessary to have for his little baby, Peter finished eating and quickly cleaned off the plate and fork. Then he went over to the bedroom as well to grab his suit and change back into it. “How much money will I need?” he asked as he watched the merc and the kitten writing and purring on the bed.

“All of it,” Wade responded with a sly grin. He pulled a slim card from his pants and flicked it across the bed. “Compliments of Tony Stark, of course.”

“Ugh, God. We seriously need to talk about that,” Peter muttered and got the card. Then he put on his Spider-Man suit before he leaned over Wade’s shoulder to read what he was writing.

“A… ‘cute little paw-warmer, preferably hand-knitted and-’... Okay, I’m totally not gonna buy that.”

Wade repositioned the sleeping kitten onto his chest and motioned for Peter to sit closer. “But you have to! Her wittle toes have been in garbage for who knows how long and we need to show her the finer things in life. And what do we need to talk about?” he asked curiously.

“You stealing Tony’s credit cards. And the poor cat will slip on the floor if you put knitted paw-warmers on her feet,” Peter tried to reason with Wade before softly kissing his cheek. “It’s cute how concerned you are for her, though.”

“Jesus, have a little faith in me, babe. I did a surveillance job for him and he paid me in credit this time around.” Wade feigned being wounded. 

“Uh-huh,” Peter replied, unimpressed. “Sure he did. And those pin-up photos of Clint that you sent to everyone of course weren’t photoshopped.”

Mumbling beneath his breath, Wade ducked his head to hide his grin as he added the finishing touches to his list. The kitten ball on his chest began to release until Bea was completely sprawled in the furrow between his pectorals. She oozed into the warm space bonelessly.

“Alright, even you have to admit that this is the cutest thing you’ve ever seen,” Wade stated affectionately as he handed Peter the list.

“You with a kitten on your chest that obviously loves you? It is,” Peter admitted and grabbed the list. “I never said she wasn’t cute, I just said she’s a monster.” 

He quickly scanned the list, shook his head and then stuffed it into his suit before he leaned in and gave Wade a tender kiss. “Anything else I should get while I’m out?” he wanted to know.

“The rest of your shit from Aunt May’s?” Wade responded, surprising himself. The thought had been sitting like a heavy stone in his gullet for weeks, but it wasn’t his intent to approach such a delicate subject with all of the finesse of a battering ram.

“I meant from the shops,” Peter made clear. Then he placed another kiss on Wade’s lips. “You know it will kill her when I move out completely,” he explained softly. “Also you have another roommate now, so it’s going to get cramped in here.”

An expressive brow raised slowly and wrinkled the scarred skin on Wade’s forehead. “Not cramped, just filled up by the good stuff. I know you’re busy and all, but I miss your glacial little toes at night when you’re not here. This feels like the most I’ve seen you in like a week. Have you even stopped for a second or gotten a solid eight hours of sleep, Baby Boy?” His hand reached out to slide down Peter’s arm, fingertips lingering.  

“I-” Peter began jokingly, but then stopped and pressed his lips together. The truth was he hadn’t. At least not since he had become Spider-Man. He suffered from a sleep disorder which was a companion of his severe depression, and he had to confess that sleeping in Wade’s arms was the only thing that seemed to make it a little better. Still he felt highly responsible for his aunt and he was afraid of completely leaving her, for quite a few reasons. He was torn between that fear and the hopeful look in Wade’s eyes whenever the subject of moving together for real came up and, as usual, that dilemma made Peter’s stomach turn into a knot and anxiety rise in him.

“I’ll be back in half an hour,” he stated simply and got up to flee the situation. Once again he felt horrible for being himself and for having to disappoint the people he loved. Either Aunt May or Wade, one of them would suffer from his decision.

“You’re lucky I have cat cleavage right now, otherwise that escapism bullshit wouldn’t fly,” Wade grumbled beneath his breath as he idly smoothed out the tangles in Bea’s coat.

Peter only tore open the window and swung out. He couldn’t stand this feeling of having let Wade down. He couldn’t stand making him sad or angry or disappointed with his decisions. He couldn’t stand Wade wanting to talk about stuff like this. There was nothing to talk about. Peter had a responsibility towards his aunt, but he also had one towards Wade and they collided. He knew Aunt May would understand if he moved out, but that kind of made it worse. How could she be so understanding about Peter hurting her? She loved him so much and he knew that she needed him, yet she would put him and his well-being first. As always. He didn’t deserve that. How could he decide against her when she was so good to him? But he also loved Wade and wanted to be with him and he knew he couldn’t spend his entire life living at his aunt’s house. The need to decide what to do at one point made Peter’s chest pull tight and his temples throb. He hated this so much. Responsibility. He was responsible for his aunt, for his boyfriend, for New York, for his own life and going to college. Everyone expected him to act in their interest and trying to please them all weighed so heavy on his shoulders. So everytime Wade pushed him, Peter immediately felt cornered and anxious and horrible for not being able to live up to everyone’s wants and needs. That made him react with escaping or attacking and that again made him feel terrible about himself because he couldn’t face the situation in a rational way. 

But now he had to focus on cat supplies and hopefully that would distract him enough to not completely lose it while loading fake mice and kitty litter on his arms.

Meanwhile, back in the apartment, Wade sighed heavily and screwed his eyes shut against the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Bea, why can’t I ever learn to keep my giant yapper shut?” Wade asked the amorphous, fuzzy blob, to which she responded with an adorable bout of dream-driven twitching. “Yeah, I know,” he responded with a soft smile. “It’s kinda like I intentionally push too hard and sabotage all of the inter-personal relationships in my life so that when I get my heart ripped out and stomped on at least it’s on my own terms. You’re pretty perceptive there, Baby Girl.” The twitching merely ramped up to include her whiskers.

The bed creaked as Wade shifted his weight and sat up. He gently set the kitten on the sheets next to him and took pleasure in the cute, tiny little mew of protest as she blinked sleepily. “But that’s the thing about fluffy murderators like yourself. They don’t give a rat’s ass about some dickwad mercenary’s lack of functionally adaptive behaviors. No judgment, no expectations. They’d forgive you anything just for a chin scratch. Right, Sweetheart?” He stood and shucked his suit into a heap on the floor, then crawled back onto the bed. Settling on his side, arm curled beneath his pillow, Wade watched the kitten stumble back over to him and burrow into his armpit. The bedside lamp was turned off with a click that sounded like finality.

Peter most likely wasn’t going to be coming back tonight anyways.

  
  


Of course he did come back, loaded with cat supplies that he had to get through the window in several stages, cursing because they didn’t fit as easily as he wanted them to. It made enough noise to wake Bea up and cause her to meow in annoyance.

“Ugh, you stupid- … Fuck you! Okay. I think I have everything,” Peter muttered to himself as he pulled his foot out of the cat carrier. “Hey, cat,” he called then. “Come and look at your new stuff. And bring your ear-scratcher, I need to ask him where he wants to put your toilet.”

Wade decocked his pistol at the familiar sound of Peter’s annoyance and slipped it back beneath his pillow. The shock of being woken abated quickly, but the surprise at Peter’s return lingered. “Hey,” he said simply as he turned on the bed-side lamp and flooded the room with light. “Looks like you bought the whole damn store.”

“I bought whatever was on the list,” Peter replied. “The carrier, the litter box, litter, cat food, treats, toys, the flea spray and whatever else you put on there. Except for the paw-warmers and the luxury bed with silk cushions. Let’s be real, she will sleep anywhere but the cat bed anyway.  Oh, and they didn’t have a ‘My daddy is cooler than yours’ shirt in there, since she is, in fact, not a human baby.”

“Nah, she’s way better than those solo-act human centipedes,” Wade retorted, yawning hugely. “Thanks for grabbing all that stuff, babe.” He collapsed back onto his elbows and rolled his eyes as the cat tumbled from the bed in a graceless heap and attacked one of the plastic bags.  

“Yeah, no problem,” Peter nodded and watched Bea with a shaking of his head. “Why are you in bed already? It’s like half past eight.” 

He bent down and grabbed one of the bags to pull out a thin, flexible stick with a bunch of feathers on a string at the end. “Hey, cat, come on, play with that. Don’t tear that apart, don’t- … ugh.”

While Peter was distracted, Wade contented himself with ignoring his question in favor of watching Bea leap into a bag and shred it from the inside out. It was like a Grimm’s retelling of Jonah and the Whale.

With a loud groan, Peter pulled the mask off his head and sank onto the bed. “This cat is you in animal form,” he whined. “I will not survive this.”

Wade scooted down the bed, sheets bunching against his stomach, and wrapped his muscular arms around Peter’s waist. Apparently Peter hadn’t stayed mad this time, so may as well make the most of it, Wade thought. “Oh, as long as you know how to love, I know you’ll stay alive,” he began to croon, grinning against Peter’s neck.

Another bag exploded in the background.

Peter only snorted and leaned against Wade. “ _ You _ will clean the mess later,” he determined. “I already carried all that stuff. Do you know how hard it was to swing here with it?”

Despite Peter’s attempts at conversation, Wade ramped up his raspy voice in a positively horrific attempt at hitting the final notes of  _ I Will Survive _ . Even Bea stopped her violent quest and stilled.

Peter tried to pull up his shoulders far enough to cover his ears. “Stoooop,” he pleaded. “My arms already bleed, don’t let my ears follow!”

The sly smile that crept onto Wade’s face went unremarked. “Okay. Sorry, Baby Boy. I’ll try not to run you off with the glory of my vocal range. Are you going to stick around for a little while?”

“I actually intended to stay overnight, but if you keep singing and this cat keeps shredding stuff, I might reconsider,” Peter mumbled.

“No, no, no, no. I’ll stop! After all, I’m going to have sex with you later, so you might as well be there for it!” Wade exclaimed, attempting to bury a laugh in Peter’s shoulder and failing miserably.

Peter only sighed and looked up at the ceiling in defeat. “I will state here and now that I will never have sex with you when the cat is in the room,” he made clear.

“It’s a fuckin’ cat. Are you afraid that our enthusiastic lovemaking will scar her for life or something? Lead to a career in feline prostitution? Have her shaking it on the corner for catnip?” Wade abruptly pulled Peter back to the bed with him, locked his arms around his shoulders, and slid his heels over the tops of Peter’s thighs in a sneaky leg hold. The bunched up sheets hampered his form, but he managed nonetheless. “Shield your innocent eyes, Bea!” he hollered. “Things are about to get  _ nasty _ .”

“Hell, no!” Peter protested and tried to struggle free. “I don’t care about the mental well-being of the cat! I don’t want it to jump on me and use my back as a scratching post or rub her head against my naked ass. Or just sit there and stare at me. It’s a ‘No’ and I won’t argue about that.”

“Who’s arguing, snookums?” Wade asked innocently as he tightened his hold. Despite Peter’s substantial strength, he had the advantage of  _ leverage _ .

“I will not. Sleep with you. As long as this cat. Is in the room,” Peter repeated slowly. “Especially not when she’s turning the bags into confetti.”

Glancing over at the pile of cat products, Wade couldn’t help but burst out laughing so enthusiastically that he fell back to the bed bonelessly with Peter still a warm weight on his chest and stomach. In the two seconds that Peter had been distracted, the kitten had managed to reduce every single bag to fluttering ribbons. She currently was sitting in the empty litter box, licking her paw as if nothing had happened.  

Peter only grumbled to himself, something about how this was only the first day of their parentship and he was already too done to fit on a scale.

“Will you fill her litter box and put it in the bathroom and then throw her out of here?” he sighed. “As soon as those plastic shreds are gone, I will let you fuck me senseless as a reward, I promise.”

“I may swoon from all of this romance,” Wade retorted dryly, but otherwise did not deign to move.

“It’s hard to be romantic after an exhausting day that ends in getting your arms butchered, buying a shit ton of cat supplies and having said cat providing us new flooring out of plastic shreds,” Peter replied and stroked Wade’s arm.

“Us?”

Peter hadn’t realised he had actually said that, so he was a little taken aback by that question. “Yeah,” he finally answered. “I mean, it kinda is my second home, isn’t it?”

The squeal beneath Peter was loud enough to reverberate through his chest. Without warning, Wade kicked against the bed and rolled them over so that he curled over Peter’s prone body. “Abso. Fucking. Lutely,” he stated, punctuating each portion of the word with a heavy, if comical, thrust of his hips. Bea blinked slowly at the proceedings on the bed, but quickly resumed her tongue bath.

“Oof,” Peter grunted beneath Wade’s moving body. “Yeah. Ou. Mh. Stop that. Stooop that. I will talk to Aunt May about me moving in here and her moving into a cheaper apartment or something. But don’t expect me to move in here like tomorrow, okay? Give me time, please.”

Wade’s ridiculous antics came to a sudden standstill as his brain short-circuited. They had been together for over a year and in all that time Peter had remained staunchly opposed to moving into his apartment. Wade gaped like a fish for a quiet moment until he softly whispered “Of course. I got nothing  _ but _ time, Baby Boy.” He kissed the back of Peter’s neck with patient tenderness and crawled off of the bed, mindfully untangling the sheets from around Peter’s waist as he went. “Alright, fleabag, let’s get you out of Petey’s hair and go set you up,” he pronounced, picking up most of the cat supplies as well as the litter box with Bea still in it. She mewed and hunkered down as she was lifted and taken into the hall. Wade’s bare ass disappeared through the doorway.

On the bed, Peter sighed again and closed his eyes. There. He had made a decision. Now it was done.

He sat up and climbed out of the bed to have a closer look at the mess Bea had created. Grumbling something to himself and shaking his head, he brought his arms up to create a big ball of web-strings and throw it onto the floor. He then kicked it around with his foot so the shreds would stick to it. One ball wasn’t sufficient though and so Peter had to create a few more to clear the floor. His task was hindered by all the items scattered everywhere that the shredded plastic bags had contained. Peter decided that he hated cats. This one in particular.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, Wade tucked the litter box in next to the toilet and filled it. Bea sniffed at it curiously and awkwardly patted a paw against the litter’s surface. Satisfied that it wasn’t going to devour her, she scrambled over the lip and explored the litter for a moment before conducting her business. Wade squatted next to the box and clapped heartily. “See! Smartest mange magnet ever!” he exclaimed with glee.

The kitten tottered after him like a child as he made his way to the kitchen and set up the feeding dish and small watering fountain on the floor. “Alright B to the Arthpurr, this is your shit. If you catch Petey trying to get a nibble of this,” he glanced at the can of wet cat food in his hand, “’Salmon Smorgasbord,’ you just give him the what for.” As soon as he dumped the can into the food dish, Wade backpedaled quickly. “That smells like laundry day at a brothel. Jesus fuck. How do you eat this crap?”

The unvoiced answer was apparently ‘easily and with gusto.’

In the bedroom Peter had kicked all the remaining cat supplies into a corner. With the sticky balls on his arms that were covered in plastic shreds, he came into the kitchen to dispose of them into the recycling bin. 

“Ugh, there,” he mumbled. “Bedroom’s kinda clean now. I see you’re doing your best to make this cat overburden her sick little stomach and throw up all the cat food on our bed tonight. Or in front of the door, so I step on it when I go to the toilet. This is going excellently.”

Without looking up, Wade grunted. “Huh. Yeah, I guess you’re right.” As much as he wanted to make the furry, second-place love of his life content, Peter was right. Recovery from starvation was nothing to take lightly. Wade had learned that sobering fact firsthand.

“Wait, what was that? You  _ agreed _ with me?” Peter asked with  exaggerated  incredulousness.  “Do I have to drag her away from the food or will you do it? My arms are already destroyed anyway, so a few more scratches won’t kill me.”

“I got this.” Wade picked up the cat food dish and tossed it into the fridge without any adverse effects other than a soul-melting mew and a flurry of soft fur rubbing against his ankles. He picked up the kitten and placed a sweet kiss on top of her head. “I don’t know how I managed to survive such ferocity!” he dramatically exclaimed to Bea.

Peter only rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to rub in that I fucked up the bathing session, okay? I get it. The cat loves you, the cat hates me. Point taken.”

“She would love you if you let her,” Wade retorted simply as he walked past Peter and flopped onto the couch, still entirely unselfconscious in his nudity.

“If I let her?” Peter snorted as he followed Wade into the living room. “I haven’t done anything to prevent her from showering me in purrs and cuddles. She’s just not doing it. I tried to clean her, she almost killed me. I bought her all the supplies, she shredded  the bags. That was all our interaction so far. Oh, except for me saving her in the first place, of course.” He sunk down next to Wade, eyeing the fluff-ball suspiciously. “She just loves you more, because you two are cut from the same cloth.”

“Uh huh,” Wade hummed, unconvinced. “How ‘bout instead of playing absentee father of the year you just, you know, pet her?” Shifting, he let out a huge yawn and bumped shoulders with Peter. Then, without forewarning, gently dropped Bea in his lap.

Peter stared at the animal on his legs for a moment before he groaned and reached out to softly bump her little nose. “How would I have been able to when you’re carrying her around all the time,” he mumbled and began to tenderly scratch her head. “Good thing you have two hands or I would get really jealous of her stealing your amazing cuddling-skills away from me.”

The affected levity in Peter’s voice made Wade shake his head, bemused. “Baby Boy, you know you’re my numero uno,” he stated, scooting close enough to drape his heavy arm across Peter’s shoulder and press their thighs together. “Give your Cuddlespool a kiss.”

Smiling softly, Peter turned his head and planted a long, gentle kiss on Wade’s lips. “Are you tired?” he asked lowly, voice loaded with concerned affection.

“Not tired, just comfortable. Happy. It’s nice…  _ this _ is nice. No jobs, no patrols, just spending some quality time with the best piece of ass this side of Queens,” Wade chuckled and buried his face in Peter’s hair. And it was true. For the first time since he could remember, he was well and truly happy. “And sorry if I pushed you too hard, babe. I’m an idiot on the best of days, but combine that with being head-over-heels for you and I get a bit… carried away.” He had the grace to glance down at Bea in embarrassment. The kitten ignored him in favor of rubbing her chin on every last inch of Peter’s questing fingers.  

“No, no, no, it’s okay, really, I-...” Peter quickly reacted. “I’m just… reluctant to leave Aunt May, but I can’t live at her place forever. And I love being with you and living with you, so I really should move in here.” He watched Bea for a while and listened to her full blast purring. “I’m sorry I was such a grump today,” he then apologised. “It wasn’t your fault. Just… a rough day and then all this cat-stuff just threw me off balance.”

“It’s all good. That’s what I’m here for, to catch you. And grab your ass when no one’s looking. All in all, it’s a pretty good deal,” Wade teased. He stroked Bea’s back with a broad palm and let his fingers linger on Peter’s when they met.   

Peter smiled again and leaned his head against Wade’s. “I love you, Cat-Daddypool,” he hummed and softly stroked the merc’s hand with one finger.

“Love you too,” Wade whispered with sincerity. However, the warm moment didn’t last long. “So, now that you’re all buttered up and non-punchy, kicky… Bea is totally sleeping in our bed tonight.”

With a groan, Peter let his head fall against the backrest and ran his hand over his face.


End file.
